


The Busted Ankle

by LMDrums



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Broken Bones, Doctor/Patient, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Medicine, Pain, Protective Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 01:05:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMDrums/pseuds/LMDrums
Summary: “I was wondering if we could go get some breakfast,” Peter suggested, “There is this new restaurant down the street. It’s within walking distance.”Tony gritted his teeth at the idea of walking. He could barely move around the lab without extreme pain. He didn’t want to worry the kid, but he was going to have to pull off a hell of an acting job to fool him.“Yeah… that sounds fun,” Tony replied. He almost couldn’t believe himself. He couldn’t walk that far.--or--Tony breaks his ankle while in the lab but neglects to tell anyone. Peter comes over and eventually finds out the truth.





	The Busted Ankle

“Fuck!” Tony yelled as he kicked the corner of his metal desk. 

Shooting, white-hot pain seared through his foot. He felt light-headed and fell to the ground in agony. Tears streaming down his face, he pulled his sock off his left foot. There was already swelling and he knew bruising would manifest soon. He thought that maybe if he iced it, he would be okay. 

Finally making it back onto his feet, or foot, rather, he limped over to his fridge and grabbed an ice pack. He managed to make it all the way back to his small couch and propped it up on some pillows that Pepper had left down there. What would he do without her? 

He sat up, being careful not to jostle his foot, and placed the ice pack on his ankle. He hissed as the bitter cold met his tender joint. There was already a deep bruise starting to form down by his ankle, but he willed himself not to look. He knew it was broken; he had experienced enough injuries to tell. Why was he so stupid? He could picture the headline now: Tony Stark Breaks Ankle Battling Office Desk. 

He lay there all night. He couldn’t get up. He couldn’t shift positions. He couldn’t even reach the TV remote. He only slept for a couple hours. The other hours were filled with pure misery. His ankle ached and each movement he tried resulted in stabbing pain. 

He didn’t want to go to medical; in fact, he hated it. They always poked him with things and kept him from resting. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Maybe it was just a sprain. 

Thinking hopefully, he limped over to the alcohol cabinet, wincing with every step. He quickly decided on whiskey and sat down at the bar. Just then, he checked his watch to see that it read 6:43 am. Damn it! Peter was coming over at 7:00 to spend time with him. 

He really should call Peter, he wouldn’t want the kid to find him like this. He probably looked terrible and his foot definitely looked disgusting. He gagged as he glanced down at the joint. His ankle was swollen up to the size of a golf ball and was covered in a deep purple and black bruise. 

On the other hand, he had promised the kid a day in the lab. After everything that kid had gone through, he shouldn’t stress him out by canceling on him. He decided it was for the best to just make it through the day with Peter and hope his ankle felt better later, although he was pretty sure it wouldn’t. 

Looking around, he found an old pair of socks sitting on a little table by his couch. If he was going to fool Peter, he was going to have to cover up his foot. That kid seemed to notice everything; he would definitely notice Tony’s revolting ankle. 

He stood up once again, alcohol glass in hand, and hobbled over to the couch where he decided he would stay until Peter arrived. He grimaced as he slipped his sock over the swollen joint. The tight fabric was really constricting his ankle. He swore he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in the joint. The pain was deepening. Could this day get any worse? 

The answer was yes, actually. He knew you weren’t supposed to take pain medicine while drinking, but he was beyond caring. He opened the coffee table drawer that was nearby and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol. Desperate for relief, he popped three pills and prayed he wouldn’t damage his liver worse than he already had.

He scrunched his eyes shut and slowly lifted his feet up onto the couch. Covering his legs with a blanket, he hoped that Peter wouldn’t question his foot’s strange position. He lay down and waited for Peter to arrive. He couldn’t keep his eyes from closing as his sleepless night caught up to him. Before he knew it, he was asleep. 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called into the dark lab, “Are you in here?”

Tony’s eyes immediately sprung open and his whole body jumped.

“Shit!” Tony cursed as his feet slid off the couch and hit the floor. His left ankle caught the edge of the nearby coffee table, and he nearly lost it. He grabbed his foot and held it; he swore he felt one of his bones shift, but convinced himself that he was fine. He had to be fine. He had to spend time with Peter. Conjuring up the little strength he had left, he called back.

“Hey, Pete.” He quickly slid himself back up onto the couch and covered his socked feet. The throbbing pain was making him nauseous. 

“Why is it so dark in here?” Peter questioned. 

Tony shifted positions trying to keep pressure off his foot. What was he supposed to say? His ankle was busted so he had to sleep on the couch and he forgot to turn the lights back on?

“Uh… I just fell asleep for a few minutes,” Tony lied. 

Peter seemed to accept Tony’s answer although it was strange; the genius almost never slept. Looking around, Peter also noticed the open bottle of whiskey and Tony’s glass on the coffee table. That too was strange because Tony tried not to drink when Peter was around. 

“Are you drinking?” Peter questioned.

“Don’t judge me, it’s been a long week.”

“It’s 7 am on a Tuesday,” Peter retorted. 

Peter wasn’t convinced. The man usually drank when he was upset, although he would never admit it, or when he was in pain, which he was equally unlikely to admit. Peter was determined to figure out which one it was. 

“So uh… what do you want to do today?” Tony asked in hopes of changing the subject. 

“I was wondering if we could go get some breakfast,” Peter suggested, “There is this new restaurant down the street. It’s within walking distance.” 

Tony gritted his teeth at the idea of walking. He could barely move around the lab without extreme pain. He didn’t want to worry the kid, but he was going to have to pull off a hell of an acting job to fool him. 

“Yeah… that sounds fun,” Tony replied. He almost couldn’t believe himself. He couldn’t walk that far. 

“Cool, I’m gonna get my jacket from upstairs--” 

“How far is it from here, Pete?” Tony questioned.

“Uh… I’m not exactly sure, let me put it in my phone,” Peter replied. After a couple minutes, he announced, “It’s a five-minute walk according to Google.”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t going to be easy, but five minutes was doable. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you upstairs in a minute,” Tony replied.

Peter nodded and walked into the elevator. As soon as he was sure Peter was out of earshot, he stood up. Cursing as his foot met the floor, he shuffled into the bathroom. 

In the bathroom closet, he found an old ankle brace and some ace bandage. If he was going to make it to the restaurant, he had to secure his ankle. He knew it had to be broken now; the joint was extremely unstable. He pushed this realization aside and began to wrap his ankle. He couldn’t help but groan as the wrap compressed the immense swelling. 

About ten minutes later, Tony had his ankle wrapped and braced, but he was still unconvinced about his ability to walk. He stood up off the toilet seat and gently set his left foot on the ground. It definitely hurt less than it did before, but it still didn’t feel good. He needed some major painkillers if he was going to get through this walk. 

He opened his medicine cabinet to find an orange bottle that read codeine. He remembered the familiar bottle that he so dearly relied on after his arc reactor removal. He was glad that he kept the extra pills around. He took two pills, but he knew the effects wouldn’t kick in for a half an hour. 

He needed to buy some time or he wasn’t going to be able to make it on the walk. He pulled out his phone and texted Peter: Hey, I gotta answer some emails really fast, so I’ll be up in about 30 minutes, sorry!

It was actually believable. Tony was always busy answering emails from people that shouldn’t be bothering him in the first place. He just hoped Peter wouldn’t come back down because he needed to figure out how to put a shoe over his enormous ankle. 

After about ten minutes, Tony was convinced that Peter was going to stay upstairs. He limped back into the lab to find his shoes that he had abandoned the day before. Quickly slipping on his right shoe, he began to plot about how he was going to handle the left. He loosened the laces almost all the way and slid his foot it. It hurt like hell, but he did it. He tightened the laces slowly, being careful as he got closer to his ankle. 

Eventually, he felt confident in his footwear, and he glanced at his watch. It had been about 30 mins, and Tony could feel the pain medicine kicking in. He remembered how amazing it felt to have all of your pain lifted so quickly. He loved the feeling of being pain-free; he almost never was. 

He stood up and took a few steps. He could feel his unsteady ankle threaten to give out each time he planted his left foot, but he could walk. 

Taking slow steps, he made it to the elevator where he pushed the button to bring him to the common floor where Peter was waiting. He knew he was walking weird, and he knew Peter would notice, but he hoped the kid wouldn’t say anything. 

“Ready to go?” Tony greeted the boy.

“Yeah! I’ve got it loaded up on my phone!” Peter replied. 

“Alright, lead the way,” Tony announced.

Peter definitely took that to heart as he walked swiftly down the street. Tony was struggling to keep up with him. His ankle wasn’t feeling great even with the medicine. Peter stopped at the crosswalk while Tony trailed behind; however, when the light prompted Peter to walk, he waited for Tony to catch up. 

“Are you okay?” Peter questioned when Tony finally caught up to him, “Why are you walking so slow?” 

Tony knew he had to give the kid an excuse or he wouldn’t stop bugging him. Searching his extensive excuse repertoire, he picked one that he used often.

“My back has been acting up,” Tony lied. To complete the excuse, he pulled back his shoulders and put a pained expression on his face. 

“You are getting older, Mr. Stark,” Peter teased.

“Don’t I know it,” Tony replied. 

The two continued on without Peter questioning him again. It took longer than five minutes due to Tony’s slow pace, and when they finally arrived, it had been nearly twenty minutes. 

Peter took the lead and told the hostess how many were in their party and asked for a booth which made Tony grateful. They sat down at the table, and the waiter took their orders. Tony could barely think. Because of the increased swelling, the brace and wrap were squeezing his ankle so tight that he could hardly keep a straight face. The dose of medicine he took was only dulling the pain. It was wearing off fast. He needed to be alone.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Tony told Peter, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter nodded. Tony got up and hobbled into the bathroom hoping Peter wouldn’t notice. When he got into the bathroom, he pulled off his shoe. Unwrapping his foot, he felt a wave of relief as his swollen ankle was released from its grip. He couldn’t bring himself to rewrap it, so he stuck the brace and bandage into his jacket pocket and put his shoe back on. Now his ankle was really unprotected, but it still felt better than when it was wrapped up. 

He tried to put weight on the now unstabilized joint only to be met with excruciating pain as it started to roll under his weight. It took several minutes for him to calm down and compose himself. He tried again to walk, and this time he was much more successful. He was definitely sporting a limp now, but he didn’t care. 

His walk back to the table was slow, but thankfully Peter’s back was to him as he made his way over, and he slid into the booth smoothly. Apparently, Tony had been gone for a while because their food was already there, and Peter was cramming his face. 

“Slow down,” Tony smiled, “We aren’t in a hurry.” 

He was completely serious too. He couldn’t walk home now. No more medicine to dull the pain and no more bracing to secure his ankle. He was going to have to talk Peter into calling Happy to pick them up. 

“Sorry,” Peter replied, “So uh… how is your back?” 

“What about it?” Tony replied confused. He forgot his earlier lie.

“You said your back hurt,” Peter explained.

“Oh.... yeah. It hurts pretty good. Maybe we can have Happy pick us up?” 

“Yeah that’s okay,” Peter replied, “Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself,” Peter laughed. 

“Watch it, Parker!” Tony glared at him. 

His ankle was making him a little testy to be completely honest. The walk was not a good idea. The throbbing came back with vengeance, and he did all he could from cursing when Peter accidentally kicked his foot under the table. Tony tried to play it off. 

“Watch the shoes!” Tony tried to joke. It probably came out a little more serious than he meant. It was hard to control your emotions when someone kicks your busted ankle. 

“Sorry,” Peter apologized, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m just joking,” Tony reasoned, “It’s fine.” 

The rest of the breakfast was relatively peaceful. They chatted about Peter’s school work and other things that were going on in his life. Eventually, the bill came, and Tony tipped the waiter 100% of the bill like he usually did. 

Happy pulled up outside the restaurant and the two made their way out to the car. Peter was in his seat in a matter of seconds while Tony took several minutes to walk to the car. Wincing at every contact his left foot had with the ground, he finally reached the vehicle where he practically fell into his seat. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

Before they knew it, Happy was pulling into the tower. He parked right outside the front doors, and Peter hopped out of the car. He stopped right before he got inside to wait for Tony. 

“Go on in,” Tony called to him, “I’ll be there in a second.”

Peter nodded and opened the door. Happy turned from the driver’s seat to look at Tony who looked horrible. 

“Are you okay?” Happy questioned.

“I busted my ankle,” Tony groaned in reply. 

“Jeez, why did you go out with the kid then?” Happy seemed confused.

“I didn’t want to worry him,” Tony explained.

“Can you get out of the car?” Happy looked at him with sympathy. 

“Uh… no,” Tony admitted, “I took medicine earlier and it wore off. It’s pretty bad.” 

Happy nodded in understanding. Tony and Happy had an extremely close relationship. The two had been through a lot together. He had seen Tony at his worst. 

“Want me to help you inside?” Happy offered.

“Yeah,” Tony accepted, “Thanks.” 

“No problem, Tony.” 

Happy got out of the car and walked around to the back passenger side door. He opened the door and eased Tony out of the seat. Tony threw his arm around Happy’s shoulder and limped inside. The two made it into the elevator and rode down to the lab where Peter was waiting.

“I have to tell Peter,” Tony decided, “Just help me to my couch, please.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Happy replied.

The elevator doors opened and Peter stared in awe as Happy dragged Tony across the lab and helped him onto the couch. Peter didn’t say a word until Tony seemed settled.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s actually wrong now?” Peter questioned.

“You didn’t buy the back thing?” Tony pretended to laugh. 

“Well, I didn’t doubt it. You probably have that problem too,” Peter smiled. 

“Hey now!” Tony replied.

“Don’t change the subject,” Peter interrupted, “What is wrong with you?”

“I uh… I hurt my ankle earlier… before you got here,” Tony mumbled.

“Oh my gosh, Tony!” Peter yelled, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Didn’t wanna scare you,” Tony grimaced, “I uh… can you grab an ice pack out of that freezer?” 

Peter obeyed and grabbed the ice pack. After wrapping it in a paper towel, he handed it to Tony. Gladly accepting the cold compress, Tony propped his foot up on a pillow. 

“Gross!” Peter yelled from the chair across the table, “You walked with your foot like that?”

“It wasn’t that bad when we left… it got worse,” Tony reasoned, “It’s uh…” 

“It’s what?” Peter pried. 

“It’s pretty bad. I think it’s broken,” Tony came clean.

“Why are we still at the tower then? We need to go to the hospital!” Peter stood up.

“No, Peter,” Tony groaned, “Just wait till Bruce gets home.”

“Fine,” Peter replied, clearly unhappy.

Tony looked down at his ankle which was now swollen beyond belief. His sock was still on, but he couldn’t get it off himself. It would hurt too much. 

“Peter, can you get the scissors from my desk?” 

“Yeah, just a second.” Peter walked over to the big metal desk and grabbed the black handled scissors. He quickly returned to Tony who seemed to be thinking.

“Cut my sock off,” Tony pleaded, “It hurts.” 

“Uh… okay,” Peter seemed nervous, “What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t,” Tony reasoned, “It can’t get worse.” 

Peter still seemed unsure, but he slid the blade under Tony’s sock near the ankle. He swiftly cut open the sock and pulled it off. The sight almost made him vomit.

“Holy crap, Mr. Stark,” Peter remarked, “That looks horrible.”

“Thanks,” Tony replied without emotion.

Peter grabbed the ice pack from Tony’s clenched fist. He gently laid it across Tony’s blackened ankle which elicited some choice words from the older man. 

“Sorry!” Peter apologized. Tony seemed to already be past it.

“I uh… need… nevermind, I’ll get it,” Tony shifted.

“No,” Peter interrupted, “Stay still. I’ll get it.”

“Okay,” Tony swallowed, “In my medicine cabinet, there is a prescription bottle. Can you grab it?”

“Sure.” Peter quickly found the bottle and read the label. He poured one pill into his hand, the recommended dosage, and got a glass of water.

Walking back to Tony, Peter held out the pill and water in his hands. Tony was laying with his hands over his face. He was obviously in distress, but Peter couldn’t blame him. If his ankle looked like that, he would probably he crying. 

“Here,” Peter offered the pill and cup.

“Thanks,” Tony accepted.

Disappointed with the dosage, Tony downed the pill. He knew that one pill wasn’t enough, but he also knew that Boy Scout Peter wouldn’t let him take more than the bottle said. 

“So uh… what happened to your foot?” Peter asked.

“It’s stupid.” Tony lifted his hands from his face.

“I do stupid stuff all the time,” Peter smiled, “It can’t be that bad.”

“I kicked my desk.”

Peter started laughing, “Nevermind, it is that bad.”

“Don’t laugh,” Tony grumbled, “This hurts like hell.”

“Hey, no cursing!” Peter yelled.

“When my ankle is the size of a baseball, I can say whatever I want,” Tony reminded.

“Fine, only because of that though,” Peter bargained, “What does it feel like?”

“Uh… you won’t be happy with my word choices,” Tony replied honestly.

“PG-13 version, please,” Peter laughed.

“It’s not something you would want to experience,” Tony explained.

“Really? I was thinking about kicking your desk just a couple minutes ago,” Peter replied sarcastically, “I meant like a description.”

“I know,” Tony hissed as he adjusted positions, “It throbs and aches. I kinda feel like I am going to throw up.”

“That’s disgusting,” Peter replied, “Can you move it?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Tony reasoned, “After that walk, I think it’s safe to say it’s pretty messed up.”

“I didn’t make you go on that walk to the restaurant. You should have told me that you were hurt,” Peter argued. 

“I thought I would be okay,” Tony objected, “I thought maybe it was just a sprain.”

“Did you look at your ankle before you decided on that?” Peter began, “It seems broken to me.”

“Yes, I did, thank you very much,” Tony uttered, “It didn’t look this bad.” 

“Whatever,” Peter replied, “Let’s hope Bruce gets home soon.”

A couple hours later, Bruce walked into the tower and into the elevator just as he did every day after exploring the city. He was greeted by Peter who seemed stressed.

“Dr. Banner!” Peter yelled from the kitchen, “Tony needs help.”

“Where is he?” Bruce replied, alarmed.

“He is in his lab, on the couch,” Peter explained.

The two rode down in the elevator together all the way to the lab. The lights were off when they arrived, and Tony was half-passed out on the couch. 

“What happened?” Bruce whispered.

“I think he broke his ankle,” Peter explained, “The left one.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know,” Bruce smiled, “I’ll take it from here.”

Knowing that Tony would fight him if he were awake, Bruce tried to get an exam in before Tony realized what was happening. He lifted the blanket off of Tony’s feet. Grimacing at the sight, Bruce inspected the joint.

The deep bruising and swelling were easily signs of a break. Bruce gently prodded Tony’s ankle, feeling for any deformities; however, he was greeted by an extremely angry Tony.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tony yelled, “That fucking hurts.”

“Hey, hey,” Bruce whispered, “It’s Bruce. Calm down.”

“I am calm,” Tony replied, “Let me know the next time you are going to poke my ankle, please.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce apologized, “Now I am going to poke your ankle again. Would you like painkillers?” 

“Uh yeah,” Tony remarked, “What kind of question is that?”

“He just took a dose of codeine a couple hours ago,” Peter informed Bruce.

“Oh,” Bruce replied, “Then you shouldn’t take anything else for a while.”

“Nice job, Parker,” Tony hissed. He was pissed. Not only did the kid short him on the medicine the first time, but now he was keeping him from getting more. 

“Tony, it’s not--” 

“I can’t Bruce,” Tony pleaded, “Give me something, or don’t touch my ankle.” 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter remarked.

“Peter, can you please go get me some crutches from my lab?” Bruce asked. 

“Sure, Dr. Banner,” Peter replied. The kid got up and left the room. 

Bruce pulled out a bottle of pain meds and slid two into Tony’s hand. 

“Take these before he comes back,” Bruce instructed. 

Tony nodded, easily accepting the offered relief. He was so thankful that Bruce understood his pain. 

“Give it about ten minutes, and I am going to try again, okay?” Bruce reasoned.

“Okay,” Tony grunted.

He hated this. He hated this so much. Why was he so stupid? How do you even kick a desk while walking? He wanted to cry. It throbbed. It ached. 

Soon, Peter returned to the lab with crutches in his hands. 

“Here, Dr. Banner,” Peter announced as he handed Bruce the supports. 

“Thank you, Peter,” Bruce smiled. 

Bruce saw that about ten minutes had passed. Tony should be feeling the pain lessen, but there was no making it go away. He hoped Tony understood that because it was going to hurt for him to examine it. 

“Ready, Tony?” Bruce questioned.

“Uh… “ Tony surveyed his pain that hadn’t seemed to dull all that much, “Not really.” 

“It’s not going to get any better,” Bruce reminded him. 

“Fine,” Tony groaned. 

Bruce sat down on the couch near Tony’s feet. He slid over to let Tony’s left foot rest on his leg. Tony grimaced as Bruce lifted the joint onto his leg. 

“Just breathe,” Bruce reminded him. Tony nodded.

He gently prodded the top of his foot, testing for pain. 

“Does this hurt?”

“Not really,” Tony replied.

Bruce moved further up his foot, towards his leg, and applied pressure. Tony squirmed.

“How about here?”

“Yes,” Tony hissed through gritted teeth. 

Testing the waters was over. Bruce moved his fingers right over his outer ankle where most of the swelling was. He applied an ever-so-slight amount of pressure. 

“Fuck,” Tony yelled, “Yeah that hurts,” he pleaded, “STOP.” 

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Bruce reasoned, “I just need to see if any bones seem to be shifting.”

“Can you please not push hard enough to find out?” Tony cried. Tears were streaming down his face. 

“Alright,” Bruce backed down, “We need to go x-ray this ankle, then.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed, “I uh… just need a second to breathe.”

Bruce nodded and looked away. Tony rubbed his eyes, willing the tears to stop. He was so weak. He shouldn’t be crying. It’s not that bad. 

“Alright… let’s do this,” Tony announced. He carefully pulled his legs down to the ground and accepted the crutches that Bruce held out to him. 

The three walked, or crutched in Tony’s case, into the elevator that took them to Bruce’s lab. There, Bruce took Tony back into his x-ray room and took several x-rays of Tony’s foot in several positions. Each change in position seemed worse than the previous, and Tony was about to lose his mind. He hadn’t been in that much pain for a long time. 

“Alright, I am done,” Bruce announced.

“Thank God,” Tony exclaimed. 

“You can go hang out on my couch while I check out the x-rays,” Bruce explained. 

Tony nodded and hobbled over onto Bruce’s couch where Peter was waiting. After what seemed like an eternity, Bruce came over to the couch and sat down. He was holding one of Tony’s x-rays in his hand. 

“You have a lateral malleolus fracture,” Bruce announced, “which is a type of fibula break.”

“Ouch,” Peter remarked.

“So I broke my ankle?” Tony questioned for clarity.

“Yeah, and it’s a pretty nasty one too.” Bruce held up the x-ray that revealed Tony’s broken bone. 

Both Peter and Tony grimaced. No wonder it hurt so bad, Tony thought. It was almost clean through.

“So uh… what do I do about it?” Tony questioned.

“Well, I am going to put you in a cast for six to eight weeks, and you will be on crutches,” Bruce explained.

“Are you serious?” Tony groaned, “This sucks.” 

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Bruce replied, “It’s the safest way for you to recover without permanent damage.” 

“I know,” Tony nodded. 

“Okay, well… let’s get you fixed up and on some painkillers,” Bruce suggested. 

“Alright,” Tony agreed.

He followed Bruce into another room off of the lab where he had a doctor table set up. He motioned for Tony to sit up on the table which elicited a pleading look from Tony. Bruce engaged his eyes sternly as if saying, get your butt on that table before I pick you up. Tony gave in and hopped on the table.

“What color, Tony?” Bruce asked.

“What color what?” Tony was confused.

“What color cast do you want?” Bruce clarified. 

“Are you serious?” Tony grumbled, “I guess black.”

“Okay,” Bruce nodded.

The cast was done before he knew it. The giant block of fiberglass encased his tender joint, but it wasn’t super tight. That was something he was eternally thankful for. 

Bruce handed him his crutches again and a bottle painkillers which he slid into his pocket. 

“Thanks, Bruce,” Tony said, “Sorry for cursing at you earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce laughed, “It probably hurt quite a bit speaking from those x-rays.” 

“You have no idea,” Tony remarked.

By this point, Peter had gone home. It was late in the afternoon, and Tony had ruined his day with the kid. He hated himself for that. He promised him a day of fun, and it ended with a day of Tony’s agony. 

“I’m going to go lay down,” Tony announced to Bruce, “I’m not feeling too steady on my feet.”

“Foot, you mean?” Bruce laughed as he gestured to his sole right foot supporting him.

“Very funny,” Tony half-smiled.

Tony got into the elevator and pushed the button for his bedroom floor. He just wanted to lay in his own bed. He couldn’t stand any longer. 

Shuffling through the long hallway, he finally reached his room where he fell down onto the bed. He curled up in the covers and propped his foot up on some pillows. He couldn’t fight his eyelids any longer, and he drifted off to sleep. 

A couple hours later, Tony heard a knock at his door. Expecting it to be Bruce or Steve, he answered the door with an old pair of sweatpants on that had a shot waistband revealing the top of his boxer shorts’ waistband. He was also sporting no shirt as he thrown it off before he fell asleep. In other terms, he looked horrible. To recap, he had no shirt, old pants, a busted foot, messed up hair, crutches, and dark circles under his eyes. He opened the door.

“Hey Tony,” Aunt May greeted. Peter was standing beside her.

“Um… hello,” Tony replied, “What are you doing here? I’m uh… sorry about how I look… I uh… was asleep…” 

“I am so sorry we woke you!” she apologized.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tony reasoned, still not fully awake, “What are you doing here?”

“Peter said you broke your ankle,” she explained, “so I brought you some food and some get well gifts.”

“Oh… that’s very nice of you. I uh… “

“Or we can come back later if that would be better,” she offered.

“No, no… now is good, it’s just… give me a couple minutes to put on some clothes.” 

“Of course,” she replied, “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this. You are probably still in a lot of pain. We should have waited to come by,” she apologized.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m fine. I’ll meet you down in the common area in a few minutes.” 

Aunt May nodded and followed Peter down to the kitchen table on the common floor. She really did feel bad about waking him up. He was obviously in pain; she could see the pill bottles on his nightstand. 

Upstairs, Tony hobbled into the bathroom where he quickly threw on a shirt. He wasn’t about to mess with getting pants over his cast, so he decided his sweatpants were fine. He tried to fix his hair the best he could, and he too descended to the common floor. 

He hated for her to see him like this. He was usually all dressed up in a suit when she saw him, but right now, he looked like a wreck. It wasn’t really his fault, though. 

Peter and Aunt May watched as Tony crutched off the elevator and made his way over to them. They both felt their hearts sink as his breathing hitched when he caught his foot on the table when he sat down next to Peter. Aunt May was across from them. 

“I made some pasta and breadsticks.” She pulled out a large bowl and pan as well as three plates. She served each of them and they began eating. 

“It’s really good,” Tony complimented, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all,” she replied, “I figured you probably hadn’t eaten in a while.”

“Yeah, I haven’t eaten since yesterday actually,” he replied.

He pulled out the bottle that Bruce had given him, and he downed two of the pills which was actually the correct dosage, so there was nothing for Peter to bug him about.

The other two watched him carefully as he opened the bottle and swallowed the two pills. He was hoping they would kick in soon because his foot was really throbbing. 

He really wanted to go back to bed, but he thought it would be extremely rude to ask them to leave. They cooked and delivered his food, so the least he could do was spend time with them. 

Aunt May noticed his pill-popping and knew it was because his pain was increasing. She really should have waited until the next day to bring him food, but she was worried about him. He seemed very self-destructive in nature, so she wanted to make sure he ate.

“Tony, I’m sure your ankle is hurting,” she reasoned, “We should probably get going and let you rest.”

“Yeah… uh, thank you… it certainly doesn’t feel good,” he replied, “and I am really tired. I think I’m going to go lay down for a while.”

“Go right ahead,” she replied, “We will clean up here and head back home soon.” 

“Thank you,” he began, “Actually, can I borrow Peter to help me upstairs for a second?”

“Sure,” she replied, “He would be glad to help you.”

Peter, obviously embarrassed, followed Tony up the elevator and back into his room. 

“Why did you let her see me like this?” Tony questioned.

“Like what? You look fine,” Peter reasoned.

“I barely had clothes on when I opened the door. I thought it was Bruce. You were lucky I had pants on.” Tony raised his eyebrows.

“She was really worried when I told her what happened,” Peter explained, “She thought it would be nice to bring you food.”

Tony smiled. This kid and his aunt were some of the most caring people he had ever met. He was glad he was getting to know them. 

Tony fell into his bed and propped his foot up once again. He was so tired, and he was in so much pain. He was so ready for peace and quiet. 

“Thanks for visiting, Peter,” Tony half-grinned, “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Peter smiled as he slowly closed the door to Tony’s room.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you liked it or if you have requests for future fics!


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